The Vampire & Her Witch Chapter 1960: A Fallen Spear (Part Two)

The air around the stone platform carried a charge, like the air before a thunderstorm preparing to break.

On one side, the knights of Aleese had gathered to support their lord, standing along with several men-at-arms who had left their seats among the common folk in a show of support for Lord Tybal and Lord Reynold.

On the opposite side, the men and women of Dirar’s Stone Guard stood menacingly, many of them towering over the men of Aleese who stood across from them. Even the ones who weren’t looming quadrupeds, the Golden Maned sorcerers in their star-covered robes, loomed large in the minds of everyone who had just witnessed the power of their fallen captain’s sorcery.

Perhaps Aspakos and the witches could defend themselves from such menacing magic, but the knights of Aleese knew full well that they had no counter for it.

Still, they stood, shoulder to shoulder, in support of their lords.

"It’d have been a clean sweep if not for the Coward Baron," Sir Emili Fulrad muttered. "He should be the one to offer up his head."

"What can you expect from a man who never rode south," Sir Bertran Ciurans said. "Losing to a woman..."

"Silence," Reynold hissed, glaring at the knights from the stone platform. "Erling risked his life for us. I will not hear him disrespected," he said sharply.

"My lords," Ashlynn said, cutting in before things could get out of hand.

Members of the Stone Guard had been sent to retrieve Rastlan’s body, but the sight of it and the horrifying wounds he’d suffered in his final moments had already brought the Stone Guard to a boiling point. With Aspakos still holding the fallen captain’s spear, tensions were high enough for one side of the stone platform to feel like oil-soaked tinder, waiting only for a spark to burst into violence.

If the other side provided that spark by demeaning the only champion from the Stone Guard to emerge victorious...

"Tonight, we’re here to put an end to the longstanding feud between the Aleese and the Southern Steppe," Ashlynn reminded everyone in a voice that carried across the outdoor arena. "You arrived tonight as enemies. You will leave as neighbors and as allies."

"Lord Dirar asked for three concessions as the price of peace," Ashlynn said. "Lord Tybal’s life to atone for the years of aggression, the lands of Aleese, returned to the Southern Steppe to rule, and Lord Reynald to become Lord Dirar’s apprentice and vassal."

"Lord Tybal’s champions have won the right to reject two of Lord Dirar’s demands," Ashlynn said, turning to face Tybal. "Lord Tybal, the right to choose is yours."

"I’ve made my decision, your Dominion," Tybal said, standing up as straight and tall as he could before his knights. "Reynold will make a fine Lord Gardener for you, your Dominion. He’s as prepared to rule Aleese as I could make him."

"You lost your captain’s life tonight, Lord Dirar," Tybal said, turning to address the lord of the Southern Steppe directly. "Your Herd Masters won’t be content with anything less than a life in exchange for that. Take mine, and leave my son in peace."

"You’re right," Dirar said, dropping his hand to the fan tucked into his waistband. "Rastlan was a rare talent. To lose him without claiming your life in exchange would be a bitter pill for the Herd Masters to swallow. Prepare yourself, Lord Tybal..."

"Father, no!" Reynold said, racing forward to place himself between his father and Dirar the instant he saw Dirar’s hand drop toward the fan tucked into his waistband.

"Lord Dirar," Reynold said. "You had a reason to want me as your apprentice and not just your vassal," he said, kneeling at the other man’s hooves. "If you still see promise in me, I’m willing to follow you."

"You’re offering to follow me in exchange for sparing your father’s life?" Dirar said in a carefully neutral tone. His hand remained on the fan at his waist, and his fingers tightened on its grip. "Your father is also your lord," Dirar pointed out. "If you defy his will now, why should I believe that you would obey my commands?"

"I never asked you to spare my father’s life," Reynold said, correcting Dirar rather than answering his question directly. "If you claim his life, my offer to follow you stands. If I follow you as the Lord Gardener of Aleese, then so be it."

"My father cannot bind my actions after his death," Reynold concluded. "I have wandered the grasslands of the Southern Steppe for many years. There is great beauty there. My heart is at peace when I roam your lands in a way that it cannot be at home. Given the chance, I would find a place among your people."

"Reynold!" Tybal snapped as he rushed forward to drag Reynold to his feet. "What madness is this? What are you doing?"

"I know what you want for me, Father," Reynold said, matching his father’s gaze with stormy eyes. "But you cannot live my life for me. You can choose to die, but if you gain nothing for it then it’s little more than a pointless gesture. Haven’t you always disdained men who made grand displays that changed nothing? Would you become such a man now?"

"You’re forcing my hand, Reynold," Tybal snarled at his son. "Again."

"Lord Dirar," Tybal said, looking past his son to the man who had come all this way to claim his head. "Be a man of your word. Take my life, reject my son. You have no right to his service without more victories than your champions claimed."

"I would sooner sacrifice my lands than see him follow you like a lost puppy," Tybal said. "Don’t let him do this."

"I’m sorry, Reynold," Dirar said, looking at the young lord with a deeply conflicted expression as he watched the young man struggling to preserve his father’s life even as his father attempted to sacrifice it for his son’s future.

"Your father is not wrong about the demands I will face when I return to the Southern Steppe," Dirar said. "I cannot turn away from a chance to claim his life to settle the debts between your family and the herds."

"Perhaps if I hadn’t made your service a prize that could be won," Dirar said with a heavy sigh. "Then I could still accept it. But honor compels me to reject an unearned prize. To do otherwise would be to disrespect the pact I made with your father, Her Dominion and Her Eternity to settle this blood feud."

"I’m sorry," Dirar repeated with genuine feeling. "Perhaps if Rastlan had lived, I could have been persuaded, but some debts are best settled with blood."

"What if they could be settled with something even more valuable?" Aspakos asked, stepping forward with the gem-studded spear in hand. "If you could present the Herd Masters with a prize of greater value than Lord Tybal’s head, would you be willing to spare his life?"